


Stripped

by Theseastar



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Family, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Domestic Avengers, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Protective Natasha Romanov, Secrects, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theseastar/pseuds/Theseastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanov is alone in a house full of people. She is searching for a reason to keep going, a reason to fight. And then she stumbles on a person, willing to fight for her. </p><p>Or, </p><p>Natasha meets a stripper, and gets some Sunshine in her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in this whole story Avengers or Marvel related I do however own my OC and her awful neighbors.

Stripped – Part One 

The first time she saw her, Natasha admits, she wasn’t in the best of places. She had just gotten off one of her worst missions, it was bloody, and brutal, and she didn’t know if she would bounce back as quick as she usually did. She had been in London for almost a month, and when she got back there had been a small, calm, dinner and she should have known it was coming. They loaded up in their stretch black SUV that they used to travel. It was her and all the boys. She should have known it was coming. They pulled up to a brick building, with tall, blackened windows. 

It was called Stripped. It was obviously a gentlemen’s club. They were taking her to a strip club. She smiled a bit, and then smirked a lot. She hadn’t specifically told anyone, but it was pretty well known around the tower that Natasha preferred women. She went both ways, that was clear as she often rolled around with Clint, but that was in the past. Clint had Darcy, now. And they weren’t about to bring their past up around her. 

She usually wasn’t invited on these trips, so there was a bit of excitement blooming in her chest, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. They parked in the back, and moved stealthily in through the back. 

Natasha had been in plenty of places like these. Hell, she had worked in one under cover for about a day. This one was nicer than most that she had been in. They were in a plush VIP section. The seats were somehow both leathery and velvety at the same time. There were three stages right in view. She nursed a glass of vodka.  
And stalked her prey for the night. There was a slim blonde at the center pole. She had a pretty face but was generic everywhere else. There was a redhead (that admittedly, did look a bit like her) off to the right pole. She was getting looks from Bucky, and he would probably end up upstairs with her for the night, if Natasha was behind honest. The woman that was farthest away, to the right stage piqued her interest. 

She was ambiguous in that way that more and more popular. You could tell neither race or age. Her skin was a dusky golden shade, that could have put her at mulatto, or native American, maybe even Indian. Her hair was black and blonde. Black at the roots that faded into a pretty blonde. She was in a pair of black, tight shorts that the bottom of her ass just peeked out of, and a thin white crop top. Her stomach was a little rounded, but muscled and strong. She flipped herself up and down and around on the pole. As the boys navigated to the stage on the right, she found herself wandering toward the stage on the left. There was quite the crowd to get through, but it wasn’t anything a glare couldn’t handle. When she up front and center for the stage, she took in an eye full. Her skin was glossy with sweat, her lips were bright pink and puffy and Natasha had to stifle herself. The girl rolled across the floor, and did some kind of sexual dance.

But the thing was, it was elegant. Unlike the other women on the floor, there was an elegance to this worker, she moved like a ballerina. Long legs twisting and pulling, her muscles really working, her head shook slowly from side to side in perfect beat with the music. Her bra free breasts were perky and firm. 

It didn’t take long for their eyes to meet. Her eyes held firm to Natasha’s as she was on her hands and knees on the stage, writhing around. She was leaned so far down her chest touched the floor with her ass firmly in the air, and her eyes met Natasha’s. Her eyes were warm brown sugar coloured, with just a hint of gold around the rim. She gave Natasha a tantalizing smile. And then proceeded to roll onto her back and squeeze her cloth covered breasts. 

When she came down from the stage, money wadded in one hand and disappeared to the back. Natasha made her way to the bar, a spot where she could see all corners of the room. She wore tight black pants, boots, and a black racer back shirt, and her trademark leather jacket. She ordered another vodka with lime and sipped slowly, waiting. The girl came out of the back, The only thing that had changed was that she was wearing knee high socks and no shoes. She came right over to Natasha. When she was close enough to touch, Natasha held her eye steely, her jaw firm, a resting face. But the woman gave her a blinding smile. 

“Are you alright?” She asked. Her smile was real, but her eyes were a bit guarded. Natasha was a bit sad to see that her hair was up in a pony tail. But she could see a bit of curl coming in at the roots. She was a lot shorter than Natasha, she was maybe 5 feet tall. Natasha crooked a brow at her question.

“What do you mean?” Usually she would haven’t given the woman the time of day, but something kept her there. 

Usually when someone is standing below my stage they have a smile, or a smirk, or something. You look…” She trailed off. 

I look?” Natasha prodded.

“Lost.” 

That struck. Because maybe that was the emotion she had been feeling that she hadn’t been able to put her finger on. Maybe that was the sensation she had been feeling that kept her staring at her ceiling fan at night. Maybe that was what was grating on her nerves, pulling at her heart strings during training exercises. Maybe she was lost. She did feel quite alone now, Clint had used to be her partner in all things. But he had found a happy place with Darcy. And she was happy for him. Steve was harder to get along with, mostly because they were both distant souls. Steve was lost in this world too, but to a much bigger beast than she. 

She got along generally with the rest of the women in the house. They talked about normal things, went out, had drinks, but she didn’t know if she felt like one of them. They were all there for the sake of their men, and Natasha was there for… something she couldn’t quite put her finger on yet. She took walks with Bruce, did boxing with Tony, fight training with the Soldiers, and regular missions with Clint, but there was the nagging sensation that she was being left in the dust. 

So she looked down into the golden eyes of the woman, who had her hand out. Without hesitation, which surprised even herself, she grasped the woman’s hand they began a walk through the crowds. The woman kept a firm grip on Natasha’s hand. Even through the pulsing sexualized energy in the crowd, she kept a steady lock on her hand. Which was much smaller than Natasha’s as well. They went up a winding stair case to a room that was full of stalls covered in thick drapes. There was a large one in the back of the room. Natasha took blatant notice of the moans coming out of the stalls, and one that sounded suspiciously like Clint. But she didn’t want to think about that. The woman drew the curtain back and Natasha sat down on the black satin bench and looked suspiciously at the scantily clad woman. Who poured her a glass of whiskey and sat down beside her.

As she glanced up Natasha’s face she giggled. 

“What?” Natasha asked, sounding a bit snappish. But the woman didn’t seem to care as she covered her mouth and laughed. 

“You look like I’m about to molest you. Calm down. I know you don’t want a lap dance. But you looked totally uncomfortable down there, and my stalkers down there, so I escaped up here with you. You look like you need a buddy.” She said. She bounced a bit as she talked, her breasts lifted in the small shirt she was wearing and Natasha took instant notice. 

“I’m Sunny.” She jut her hand out. 

“…Sunny.” It was fitting that was for sure. 

“Well, it’s actually Sunshine. But Sunny just sounds so much better to me. My parents were – are – hippies” She said. 

“Sunny do you normally bring women you don’t know up to rooms where cameras cant see you?” Natasha asked this, and couldn’t really figure out why. The woman was a stripper, in a popular place, of course, she normally did stuff like this. But there was something there that Natasha wanted to protect. There was something innocent, and pure, there that was so out of place and so spontaneous that Natasha really didn’t know what to think about it. And although this woman was half naked, and had just been grinding all over a stage for money, there was something so sweet there. 

“No.” Sunny said, indignant. “I don’t do private shows. I just do stage and coach. I was just trying to… I don’t know.. help.” She stood up and rung her hands.

“Look, sorry I drug you up here I just thought… I don’t know..” She trailed off again. And that really bugged the red head. She was for some reason, hanging on this woman’s every word.

“Just thought what..?”

“That you needed someone to talk to. Maybe a hug.” She said. She toed the carpet in her black socks. Natasha contemplated her position for a moment. She could stay up here, and talk to this woman, who so clearly was just trying to help (not at all knowing that she was speaking to one of the most deadly assassins in the world) or she could go back downstairs and see Thor and Tony throws shots (and ultimately see one of them projectile vomit everywhere.) So she pat the side of the satin bench and the girl hopped back on with delight. Breasts swaying, smile beaming, and she launched herself at Natasha, who only had a moment to stiffen her spine and catch the woman before she fell face first. 

The hug was awkward and stilled at first. But Sunny kept squeezing tighter. Natasha finally relented and gave a squeeze back. She could feel the woman’s hardened nipples against her tank top, but did nothing about it. 

She sat back and smoothed back her hair. Which she had shoved into a pony tail. 

“So what do you want to talk about?” Sunny asked. Leaning back on the bench and staring up at the velvet dipped ceiling.  
“You brought me up here. What do you want to talk about?” She said. 

There was silence for a bit, but she could see Sunny thinking, her eyes dodged back and forth the way Tony’s did when he was deep in thought. 

“My neighbor keeps coming over and telling me I’m not allowed to have caged animals. I have a bunny, his name is Elephant.” She was twirling a hair around her finger. “But I spoke to my land lord, and he said it was fine, so I Don’t know what her problem is. She also glares at me when I come hope late, because she peeks out the door. And I swear to god she’s stealing some of my mail. I signed up for Cosmo magazine, and I haven’t gotten one!” Her feet tapped on the bench. 

“Why don’t you report her to your landlord?” Natasha leaned back against the wall. 

“Because I don’t want her to be out of a home. She’s kind of a menace and I don’t think anyone else will take her.” She said honestly.  
Their night went on mostly like that, with Sunny talking and Natasha listening. But she couldn’t help but notice that the more the woman babbled on, Natasha felt the ache ease a little inside of her. She wondered if that was mostly because she was being talked to like a normal person. She didn’t want to look too deeply into it than that. 

Her phone beeped about an hour in. As Sunny was telling her the enthralling and humorous tale of her trying to make her grandmothers meatloaf every Sunday and it never turning out right. It was the prompt for a mission, to meet back at the SUV in five minutes. She stood up, interrupting Sunny’s sentence. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. 

“I have to work.” She said. And then she wanted to slap herself. That would open her up for questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Sunny stood up too, wringing her hands again. 

“Oh. Okay. Thanks for.. talking with me.” She said. Natasha turned to stalk out of the room, without looking at Sunny’s face. But said, over her shoulder. 

“My name’s Natasha. It was nice to meet you, Sunny.” She said. 

And it was done.  
.  
.  
.  
After the mission was done, all Natasha could think about was Sunny. But that was a lie, she spent a lot of the mission thinking about Sunny. Hydra magnetic orbs coming out of ocean was a bit of a problem, but more of a problem if Sunny made it home that night. Was she safe? It had stormed in New York and there hadn’t been power in many complexes. Natasha had been lying to herself a lot more lately, mostly about things that had to do with Sunny. That was a clear as day sign that she needed to stay away from the woman. 

And as clear as that sign was that didn’t stop her from looking Sunny up in Shield’s data base and getting her address. That didn’t stop her from driving over that Sunday evening on her Harley and checking things out. The apartment was as standard as they came, a brick building, a few stairs. She knew that Sunny lived on the first floor, which made Natasha feel a bit better as she would have a clear escape route if something were to happen. 

Her feet took her inside even as her mind fought it, even as she mentally berated herself for what she was about to do. As she came around the corner where number 4 was located, she noticed an older woman in front of the door. Picking up a magazine front in front of Sunny’s door. 

“Hey” She called, softly. The older woman spun around. She was in pin striped pajamas. 

“Is that your magazine?” The woman nodded vigorously. 

“See, I don’t think it is.” She took a purposefully threatening step toward her. “I think that magazine belongs to the woman who lives here, Sunny.” She said. The older woman glared. 

“You that woman’s girlfriend or something. She’s a whore, wouldn’t be a far stretch if she was a lesbian too.” Natasha moved quickly stepping in the woman’s person space. Looming threateningly. 

“Sunny is not a whore. Here’s the deal, you steal more of her mail, or call her something out of her name again. I’ll know about.” She said. She for some reason, didn’t deny being Sunny’s girlfriend. Not that she was, not that she had thought about it. She shook the thought process away. The older woman scampered to her door and slammed it shut, echoing in the complex. 

Natasha knocked softly on Sunny’s door. She could hear a television on the inside. These walls were thin. 

Sunny opened the door wearing a pair of leggings and a T-shirt. In her hands was some kind of fuzzy creature. Natasha recognized it as the bunny. Elephant. She held out the magazine when she found that her voice wouldn’t work. 

“Natasha!” Sunny squeaked and hugged her. The hug was just as warm as the last one, and just as tight, and just as comforting. She could also tell that Sunny still wasn’t wearing a bra. 

“You’ve come just in time. The meatloafs out of the oven.” She led Natasha inside and shut the door, Natasha took note that she didn’t lock the door. That would be a conversation they would have to have. 

“I think I put a little too much rosemary in this one.” She said. Elephant went back in his cage. Hands were washed and meatloaf was served.  
There was a bit too much rosemary. But Natasha didn’t complain, it was very good. Sunny complained though, the potatoes were lumpy, there was too much rosemary, and it wasn’t holding together. Natasha assured her that she liked it. She found herself drying dishes and listening to Sunny talk about work. About how they were getting new flooring and she would have a week off. She learned that besides dancing, Sunny had a pretty prominent career in design. She worked via computer and paper to color designs for bed sheets, curtains, rugs and other décor, she simply put it “I use lots of color pencils.” 

Natasha found herself watching a movie, she didn’t think it was all that funny. But laughed when Sunny did. Sunny often nudged her, with her foot, her shoulder or her head. She didn’t know if it was a way for the woman to garner her attention or if Sunny was just… checking on her. 

Sunny fell asleep during the second movie, she snored lightly. But it was somewhat soothing to Natasha, who slid away. Peeking once into the cage where the rabbit stared back at her. She left after locking the door and leaving a note on the door knob that reminded simply, 

Lock The Door.  
.

.

.

They continued much like that, Natasha would pop in, whether it was at her job, or at her apartment and just hang out. Sunny didn’t ask questions, she just moved about as if were normal. They watched movies, made meatloaf and other recipes, and sampled ice cream. She usually came bearing gifts, whether it be wine, a magazine or a new lock for her door. Natasha figured it was the least she could do.  
She somehow gave in to Sunny’s prodding for her phone number. Mostly because she worried about the girl. Sunny was naive and a bit too friendly. She gave in easily and was easily persuaded. She worried about the woman walking home, and always forgetting to lock her door at night. 

She kept her relationship with Sunny secret from the team. Mostly because she didn’t know how to describe it, ‘hey guys, I’m hanging out with this girl because she makes me feel like a human’ wouldn’t go over well. She was good at it to, left at opportune times when Clint was distracted with Darcy. She knew it would come to light one day. 

It was on a Saturday night. Usually Sunny didn’t dance weekends, the call came during ‘team dinner’ it was meatloaf. It wasn’t as good as Sunny’s Sunday failures. But it was dinner. Her phone rang loudly in her pocket and everyone looked at her, stopping mid conversation.  
“That you?” Clint asked. Sounding skeptical and suspicious. 

She looked at the number, and would have ignored it if it were anyone else, all the people who call her for work were right here. But it was Sunny’s number. At 7 o’clock. On a Saturday. That never happened. So she answered. Regardless of the eyes watching her, or the silence that had encompassed the room. 

“Yes.” She said. 

“N-n-natasha.” She could hear teeth chattering. Her hand clenched around the phone. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“He attacked me.” 

She had never moved so fast in her entire life. And she would never admit this to anyone, but to the tune of Sunny’s sobs in the phone, her heart was pounding. 

In fear.


	2. Lost and Found

Stripped – Part Two 

Natasha watched as Sunny pat her face down from her seat in front of the vanity. There was a large bruise forming spanning the top of her forehead down to the bottom of her chin where her face had been pressed up against a brick wall. Her nose was split at the top. Her left eye was blackening. She had scrapes at the tops of her cheeks and shoulders. Dark, finger like bruises appearing on her shoulders, on her breasts, and thighs, and a few on her ass. Her eyes were red, and swollen, she had just stopped crying recently. She was in a towel, after doing forensics, Natasha had urged her into the shower, so she could wash on the dirty remnants of the man who had laid hands on her. 

After the call came, Natasha left, with no shoes, in a pair of black jeans, and a long sleeve white shirt, no stealth no nothing. She barely even noticed Steve and Clint coming with her. She raced her car down back alleys to reach Sunny’s apartment. Her neighbor, the infamous magazine thief was outside the door, knocking. When she saw Natasha coming up, she scoot back. 

“I think there’s something wrong with her!” 

Natasha basically snarled at her and went up to Sunny’s door. She would have to nag her later about locking the door, but at this moment she was okay with it. Sunny was slumped at her kitchen table, pressing a dish cloth to her forehead and sobbing into the false wood. A tea kettle was screaming on the stove, but was left untouched and she could hear Elephant, her long haired bunny jumping enthusiastically around in his cage. There were bloody ripped band-aids, strewn on all over the table. Natasha squat down next to her, 

“What happened, любовь?” 

“Mark came back.” She was sobbing into her arms. Natasha grasped her arms and spun her around. As she did that, her robe fell open, she was still wearing her ‘work’ clothes, A see-through white bustier, her breasts spilling out and a white thong. She watched Steve whip around to not see, and Clint’s eyes widen in the side of her eye. She yanked Sunny’s robe back to cover her. 

“Have you washed?” Natasha asked. Steve tended to the tea kettle as Clint poked around Elephants cage. 

“No.” She said, wiping her bloody nose on her hand. Natasha could see the forming bruises even under the caked on makeup and glitter that surrounded her scraped up eyes and cheeks. They packed her away inside the SUV, She was still in a robe and high heels. Clint secured elephant, his small bag of food, and a little folded up pin that Sunny joyfully called ‘his playpen.’ – when they arrived on the Avengers first floor, Tony and Bruce were in the foyer, waiting for their return obviously, since they hadn’t called. Darcy had been coming in with a cup of coffee, and Pepper following close behind. 

When the elevator doors opened and Natasha helped her onto the floor. It was awkward instantly. Sunny was there, in a robe, that was hanging open, in a see-through white outfit, high heels, and glitter and blood. Darcy dropped her coffee cup, Pepper gasped out loud and Tony began to leer. Bruce as the only one of them that remained professional. Once his mouth closed from shock he began to assess her. He sat her down on the leather ottoman and sent Pepper after his brief case and forensics case. 

“Can you tell me what happened to you?” Bruce asked. He was on the couch, leaning in with a look of concern on his face, while Natasha knew he was just trying to help she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes dipped down every once in a while. Sunny might be a bit tousled up, but she was still a gorgeous naked woman in a room full of men. And Natasha didn’t appreciate it. 

“This man, Mark… he’s kind of a … fan .. of mine. He caught me while I was outside with Rosie, I made Rosie go inside and get the bouncers, he… attacked me.” She said. She began to wipe at her face again. Natasha knew she was feeling exposed, and not because the lack of clothing. 

“Who is Mark?” She asked. Stiffly. She was embarrassed, and not because the woman she had been spending almost every day with was naked in the living room, but because she didn’t know this threat. She had warned Sunny about locking her door, turning off her oven, and keeping her pepper spray in her hand if she chose to walk home. But she hadn’t warned Sunny about a Mark, and Mark got Sunny. 

“Mark is the man I told you about when I first met you, my stalker? The one I was trying to get away from. He’s usually not allowed in the club. But sometimes he slips in. I hadn’t seen him since I started hanging out with you… strong women scare him… that’s why he targets me … or at least that’s what Mary says… she’s a psychology major!” She said. Bruce nodded, Pepper returned with his supplies and he began to go over her injuries. 

“Can you tell me how you got your injuries?” Bruce asked, his voice the monotone that was a mix of concern and professional distance. 

“Well, he ran at me, and I turned to run inside but he was too fast and he slammed me up against the brick. He kept rubbing my face on it, I turned around when he loosed his grip so he could grab my breast.” She gestured with a hand, and Natasha wished she hadn’t as every eye in the room went to her practically exposed breasts. 

“I kneed him in the balls, and he grabbed my throat, and smacked me in the eye. I bit him on the ear, and he threw me to the ground and sat on me. He kept squeezing me. I reached for my mace on the ground, I sprayed him, and ran away.” She said. Natasha’s fists were clenching as she heard the story. Sunny didn’t know how to take care of herself. And part of Natasha blamed that on herself. 

Bruce swiped her teeth for DNA, sprayed her cuts and sent her to shower after dusting her bruises. 

So here they were, basking in the silence that Natasha had created in the bathroom. Elephant was exploring around her wooden flooring in his play pen, and her TV was on. But she was watching Sunny clean herself up. 

Sunny broke the silence first, not looking Natasha in the eyes, and slowly combing out her hair, that was clumped up, even after her shower. 

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to, I just … didn’t know who else to call.” She said. Her voice was more serious than Natasha had ever heard it. She felt her heart constrict at Sunny’s carefully constructed words. 

“I wasn-“ She tried to assure her. 

“Yes you were, and it’s okay. I understand. I wouldn’t want to introduce my stripper friend to my super hero friends either.” She could hear Sunny’s voice breaking up, but for some reason, she couldn’t respond. As much as she hated it, as much as she knew that Sunny’s words weren’t true, she didn’t deny them. And she didn’t know why. 

“I just… text for a cab and I’ll make my way back to my apartment. I’m really sorry I called you. I wont do it again.” 

Sunny dressed carefully in her clothes, putting a T-shirt and a pair of jeans over it. Elephant was packed back up. Natasha didn’t look up as Sunny was packing her stuff back up, her mind was screaming at her body to move. Not to let Sunny leave the tower. But there was another part of her, that cold, stony part that knew it was something that had to happen. Sunny had to go. Because Natasha couldn’t be the Black Widow, if she had a Sunny in her life. Perhaps that was the real problem here, that Natasha didn’t know how to do her job with a little Sunshine in her life.

Sunny left the apartment with the quiet flick of a door. She was too classy to do door slamming or scene causing. That nagging part in her brain told her to get up, and follow her, make sure she at least got home okay, but the Widow, The more dominant part of her being, let Sunny go. Sunny wasn’t important to her, she whispered, she couldn’t be all she had to be with Sunny there. She got up from the bathroom and made her way wordlessly to the balcony, swiping a bottle of Jack on the way out. The night air was cool and crisp and exactly what she didn’t need, even the smell in the sky reminded her of Sunny. The alcohol reminded her of Sunny. Everything reminded her of Sunny, of the thing she shouldn’t have. 

So she would move on, cut her losses, like she always did.   
.

.

.

.

So life went on, like it was guaranteed to do. One month passed smoothly. She took a two week covert mission in Texas as Regina McNeal, a sorority sister and biology major. She spent two weeks with blonde hair, spray tan and a blister from her boots. But it was a good distraction. Nothing in Texas reminded her of Sunny, at least, this part of Texas. In order to find someone like her she’d have to go to Hawaii or California. Once the mission was over, the science lab trying to create a Hulk was infiltrated and destroyed by SHIELD she returned home. 

The tower was still a place of uncomfort for her. Because she knew everyone was dancing around their questions. And every time she went into her bathroom she was reminded of Sunny. She didn’t want to have dinner with the team, in case they happen to be serving meatloaf or something that Sunny normally made. It was harder distancing herself from Sunny than she thought it would be, especially on a night like tonight. 

A month and a half since she had let Sunny walk out of her life, it was movie night, and she wasn’t going. Half because they were watching Nightmare on Elm Street and that movie reminded her of Sunny, who claimed it to her favorite movie, and forced Natasha to watch the series over and over again. And halfway because she didn’t want to watch the spongy, sick, love that was going to be all over the movie room. Between Tony and Pepper, Jane and Thor and Clint and Darcy, she didn’t want any part of that action. She would no doubt be crammed between the super soldiers, trying to not make Steve uncomfortable or provoke Bucky (who, as of late had been a little snappish, even more so than her) so she made her way down to the kitchen, took out a pint of sicillian pistachio ice-cream, a gun magazine, and a novel that she’d been working through and made herself comfortable on the stool. She was by herself for over an hour, flipping slowly through the pages of the magazine, trying hard not to fall into the pit that her mind had been trying to slide in for the past month. 

She barely heard him when he came in, which spoke a lot about how she’d been handling these last couple of months. Bruce took a seat at the stool across from her. He slid the ice cream over to himself and took a nice sized bite. Natasha watched him scarf down ice cream (an act so unlike him) for a full minuet. 

Until he looked up and said: “I live in a house full of morons.” 

Natasha, so taken aback, couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open in surprise. But he didn’t stop to let that sink in, he just mowed on through, 

“I mean, Tony and Pepper are fighting because they’re both mad at each other, but don’t actually talk to each other, I mean, as smart as Tony is, socially, the man is a 2 year old. Steve and Bucky are fighting because both of them THINK they are mad at each other, and they are underestimating, each other, and Bucky wont tell Steve about his girlfriend, or something along those lines. Thor and Jane are so aired up on each other that they don’t realize that Darcy really needs their support as the thing she has going on with Clint is spinning down the drain. And Clint, god he is such an idiot. Don’t even get me started on you. You are so in love with this woman, that not only can you not see it, but you’re so blinded by it that you’re just okay with suffering! She obviously means a lot to you and because what? She’s a dancer, or you’re an assassin you can’t be together, well Natasha, no one told you you had to be an assassin. So instead of just telling her how you feel, and making some different life choices that would make you happier, you just sit in a shit puddle. For the world deadliest assassin, you sure are ruled by fear.” He said.

Natasha, who was unaccustomed to people speaking to her this way, just sat in silence. Bruce continued in on his ice cream. But was the first to break the silence again.

“I know you’re scared. Believe me, I know. I didn’t think I could ever be with a woman again… after this … But, anyway – Fear isn’t something that should rule your life, let me tell you something, our lives, these delicate, fragile things, are full of choices. All of actions, have led up to where we are, but we superhero’s… we selfish superhero's like to tell people we were ‘chosen’ like we had to do it. There are a lot of choices in life, if you’re kept awake at night, or not smiling every day, then you need to pick another choice.” At that, he got up, taking her ice cream with him and vanished from the kitchen. 

But his words remained, 

Pick another choice.   
.

.

.

.

Sunny was at her favorite part of the day. Testing out her new mattress, and by ‘new’ she meant the one she bought a year and a half ago that wasn’t the hand-me-down one that she had brought with her to New York. She had a belly full of warm, sleepy time tea, and a pasta with parmesan. It had been a while since she danced so she was faring on lighter meals. Her designs were being picked up more, so more money was flowing it, but she did miss dancing a bit, in a strange way. 

So she tucked herself in, wearing a good pair of underwear and a tank top she rolled until she faced the wall and closed her eyes.   
This was the rough part. 

In those moment before sleep took her and while she was still wide away, her red headed friend visited her again. Even though she hadn’t seen Natasha in almost two months, she always visited her in her dreams. She remembered the hushed monotone that she spoke in, and the way she always scolded Sunny for keeping her door unlocked. Natasha had been a good friend, when she first came to Sunny, she appeared something of a whipped puppy.

She was downcast, and drawn in. But the more they spoke, the more Natasha shined through. She had a bleak since of a humor, but it was there. She didn’t like romance movies, she preferred murder mysteries or crime drama’s. She liked all meatloaf, even if it had too much rosemary or not enough sauce. There were parts about Natasha she knew she would never know about, like where the woman went for days on end, why she always came back so defeated. 

And then it slid into place so evenly when she was taken to the Avengers tower. 

It was there, she realized, that she and Natasha couldn’t be friends. She had never been ashamed that she was a dancer, it was a job she mostly enjoyed. Dancing wasn’t something she was forced to do, it kept her fit, it was fun and she made good money. Her boss was an understanding lady, she worked with many amazing women. She didn’t have a lot to complain about. And nobody had ever been embarrassed about it. Her mother thought it was funny, and just wanted her to be safe. Her sister had shrugged it off and asked for some dance tips for her honeymoon. But Natasha had been embarrassed, she showed up in front of her superhero friends, half naked, beaten and crying, and Natasha was embarrassed. And if there was one thing that Sunny knew how to do, it was run away, so that’s what she did.   
The day after that all went down, and she was home with Elephant, a manila folder was slid underneath her door along with her magazine. And it was full of … well, Natasha. Or maybe she should say Natalia. Murders, hundreds of them, all sorts of things that only belonged in a bond movie. But here they were, the woman she’d been crushing on and had befriended was a …spy? A killer? 

But she was still Natasha. 

Sunny drifted off to sleep with a mind full of a pictures of sandy beaches, and clear blue water, and wondered if it was time to go on a vacation. 

.

.

.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was from a loud clap of thunder. She shifted around on her back until she found a comfortable spot, she was going to roll over again, but there was something in the way. A person, in the way. She jolted up and turned to the right, fully prepared to see Mark the stalker in her bed. But what she wasn’t expecting was her redheaded friend. 

Reclined on some pillows with a familiar manila folder, closed, in her hands. She looked the same, perhaps a little more tired. Bags under her eyes, and looking a little more than pale than normal, she was there. Sitting above the blanket. 

“Natasha” She squeaked. Having not put her contacts in she shuffled around on the nightstand for her glasses and once they were on her face, she could really take her friend in. Deep purple bags under her eyes, prominent veins under her lips, looking thinner than ever. 

“Where’d you get this?” She said, her voice was cold. Like the last time she heard it. It was always fairly monotone, but this time, this time it was cold. 

“It came underneath my door. With my Cosmo.” She said. She picked at her fingernails. The last of the pink nail polish flaking off. 

“Hm.” And then silence. 

And more silence. 

“I’m sorry.” The redhead said. She looked over at Natasha, who was looking right at her. They held eye contact for a while, and Sunny broke it off, began to pick at the quilt over her down comforter. 

“I’m not ashamed of you. Or I wasn’t. That time. Sunny… you…” For the first time in as long as she’d known her, Natasha seemed at a loss for words. 

“Sunny …. You’re very… special to me. You mean very much to me…. More than, probably anyone in that tower…. I love you, Sunny.”   
Sunny herself didn’t know what to do, not many people had said that to her. Her mother, her sister, her grandmother, and Mark the stalker, but to hear the words come from Natasha’s mouth – somehow, it made them more beautiful. 

“I do bad things, but … you know that… But if you want me to stop, I will. Or, I can find something else to do. But Sunny, I’m not good at this. I’m good at being a spy, I can be whoever you want me to be.” She could see in Natasha’s eyes the vulnerability, and knew it to be true. 

“I want you, to be you.” And then she closed the gap.

Natasha’s mouth was just as soft as she thought it would be. The red heads hand buried in her curls, and they flopped back. Facing each other, heads on two separate pillows, they stared, eye to eye, mouths locked. It seemed as thought it was meant to be. She drew the woman closer, in frustration she kicked the blankets off. Their legs instantly tangled together. And then it was burning. It had been a long time since she felt that feeling of wet desire stirring in her body, but it was her now. And it seemed like it was here to stay. Natasha’s hand drifted from her hair, to her back, to her bottom. Pulling her as close as she could get her. The moment her thighs locked around Natasha’s legs she began to grind just a little bit. Her nipples pebbled against Natasha’s chest. 

“Wait” Natasha broke apart. Sunny whined, and dropped her head back onto the pillow, she could feel her body pulsing, ready for any kind of invasion. 

“We have to do this right.” She said, sounding determined. 

“Natasha this isn’t the 1800’s for the love of God, touch me.”   
.  
.  
.  
To be Continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some smut.   
> I can't decide whose story needs to come after this so I'm going to take a poll....Would you like to see, 
> 
> Bucky  
> Steve  
> Bruce  
> or our bonus (who I wont announce who it is, but you're welcome to take a guess.)

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a note, what do we think? 
> 
> After Natasha's story there will be one about Bucky and Steve. In the Now I'm Found. series.  
> So, what do we think?


End file.
